


Out of the Ashes

by orphan_account



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 13:54:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7937245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This came into my head when listening to "A Kiss With A Fist" by Florence and the Machine, then I wrote it down for the D12 Drabble prompt-"Fire".</p><p>“What I need to survive is not Gale’s fire, kindled with rage and hatred.<br/>I have plenty of fire myself.” (Mockingjay Ch27)</p><p>Contains Non-graphic description of domestic violence-but ultimately as fluffy as they come.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out of the Ashes

Arguing with Gale was like being trapped. He tangled Katniss up in words so that the more she wriggled the more caught up she became. There was no release to be had from a row like this, just endless frustration that ended with Katniss shouting in her need to be heard. She screamed louder, until eventually tears fell hot on her cheeks whilst Gale continued to toy with her, scorning her lack of self-control. The day came when she was so tightly wound that her foot shot out and struck him on the shin. Not a playful tap, this was a fully intended kick. The shock came when he kicked her straight back. But how could she complain when she had started it. Worse still was the rush she got from it. She saw the surprise and anger on his face; at last, she had his full attention. Maybe now he would show her some respect.

She slapped his face; he smacked her back. It was strange, his words could have her in floods of tears, but this just stoked her anger; if anything, she felt empowered.

Typically, he stopped short of giving her the fight she wanted. Dabbing at his lip, he shook his head at her in pity. “You need to calm down,” he opened the door for her and she willingly complied with the suggestion. She longed to be out of there. 

As soon as she was away from the house she felt better. Around him she was half-crazy. People from work wouldn’t recognise the calm, reliable, hard-worker they knew if they’d just seen her. As she drove around the neighbourhood she slowed her breathing and decided she had to apologise and try to make it right again. They’d been together too long to let things turn out like this. She did need to get more control of herself. It probably didn’t help that their sex life was in the doldrums. He’d even said thank you the other night! Did he not know the proper way to thank a woman for an orgasm? It made her feel like her love was just a favour to him. But maybe she was just as bad, too proud to ask him to give her what used to come so easily.

He was already in bed when she got back, scrolling on his phone.

“Sorry,” she went over to kiss him, ignoring his quick need to shut the phone down before responding to her touch.

“I’m sorry too. We’re both too hot headed.” There was genuine regret in his apology and he wrapped his arm around her comfortingly, pulling her on to his chest.

They screwed quietly in the night. He didn’t get her there but she pretended it was good, because she wanted it to be, and if she said anything he would take it as a criticism.

Despite all good intentions it was only a few days before it happened again. A line had been crossed, if not with the kick then the slap. He was holding on to her wrist, insisting she couldn’t leave during a row, and she twisted around to kick him hard in the backside. The force he used with his return kick was a little more frightening this time. But she was pleased to find she had no more tears for him. It was exciting in a way. She pushed at him, but he walked away, further enraging her with his hypocrisy.

And again, the next week. Gale pushed her first this time, ricocheting her off the work tops. It was wrong, but at least it felt like there was some passion between them at last. She pushed back at him. He raised his hand and slapped her, hard across the face. That did hurt. She turned and ran out the back door, not stopping until she became aware of the odd looks from passers by and eased down to a walk. She wasn’t going to stop though, there was way too much energy wound up inside her for that. She walked on and on, out of their neighbourhood and into the town. This was where she and Gale had grown up. They’d always been together since high school. She’d never been with anyone else. She knew what was happening wasn’t right; but not to be with Gale was unthinkable.

Finally, her body slowed up as she came to the fountain at the centre of a square of shops. She sat down on an empty bench, realising her legs and hands were shaking with adrenaline. Again she had that toxic thought. Maybe this was better than the boring existence she and Gale were in danger of settling into. She couldn’t imagine their being apart, but being with him was killing the life in her too. If only she knew what Gale thought? And that was a big part of the problem, she never really understood him these days. As time passed, there was less and less they agreed on. The only thing left that they had in common seemed to be that neither of them could let go. It appeared that they were destined to make each other miserable.

As if the thought came alive in front of her, she caught sight of Mr and Mrs Mellark in the bakery across the square. She was nagging him about something, and he was sighing and placating. She wondered how many million times they’d had that row. She could picture them at it when she was a kid and went into their shop on a Saturday for a treat. In her mind’s eye she also saw Peeta, her classmate, cowering in the back. It can’t have been much fun for him growing up amongst that constant atmosphere of animosity. The lightbulb switched on, and she saw it. That was where she and Gale were headed, if things carried on as predicted towards marriage and babies. She would be Mrs Mellark screaming at her husband, but Gale would be no Mr Mellark. He wouldn’t stand for that. It would be even worse for any children.

With this realisation, her decision was made, and a weight was lifted from her shoulders.

“Thank you Mrs Mellark,” she said with feeling.

The only proper thing to do was to go and buy herself a cake to celebrate. 

The bell rang as she came in through the door. The bakery had changed very little over the years, a neat little shop with trays of cakes and tarts on one side and artisan breads on the other. The air was infused with the scent of cinnamon and dill. It was a smell very reminiscent of Peeta Mellark from school. He must have spent so many hours here in this shop and the baker’s kitchen. Mr and Mrs Mellark had taken their bickering out of the shop as she entered, leaving Katniss alone and free to peruse the displays of cakes. They might be a nightmare to live with, but the Mellarks certainly knew how to bake. The rows of frosted buns and glazed rolls had her mouth watering. All that fighting and soul searching had given her an appetite.

After a few minutes, a young man appeared to serve her; dressed in a plain white T-shirt, sleeves rolled up over taut biceps, a long apron covering a pair of pressed pants, handsome as ever.

“Hi, Peeta,” for some stupid reason she’d always felt shy around Peeta Mellark. 

“Katniss,” his face was full of concern, “what happened?” His hand reached out towards her cheek.

She followed his reach, pressing her hand to her cheek bone, and finding it was still raw, she flinched. She shook her head at herself in wonder that she had managed to forget about the hit she had taken.

Without any fuss, Peeta filled a cloth with ice and was around the counter, holding it to her cheek. The shock of the ice made her shiver and he rubbed her upper arm, holding her tenderly in his hands. It had been a very long time since she had felt cared for like this, and to her shame she could feel tears pricking at her eyes.

“Come and sit in the back and get warmed up, it’s nearly time to close.”

She must have still been in shock as she followed his directions to be seated at a table in the kitchen.

“Here,” he poured her a glass of brandy liqueur they used in baking and left her to go and close down the shop. The warmth from the ovens combined with the alcohol to flicker gently inside her until she glowed. A pleasant glow, like sunshine, not raging with fire the way she seemed to be most of the time these days. 

Occasional bursts of bickering could still be heard through the ceiling. Katniss raised her glass to thank the Mellarks for helping her to see the light. Peeta came back in just in time to see this.

“A toast?”

“I think your family may have saved my life today.”

Peeta joined her at the table, pouring himself a glass of liqueur and topping her up. He clinked his glass with hers, “Well, I’ll drink to that.”

They sipped quietly together, sharing the experience of the sweetly intoxicating syrup.

Eventually their eyes met as they both looked up at the same time. Peeta gave her a reassuring smile, before asking, “How’s your cheek?”

The ice had numbed it nicely, it didn’t sting anymore. She sighed as she thought about Gale again. It was so satisfying sitting here with Peeta, basking in the warmth that surrounded him. There was little peace to be had around Gale.

The liqueur loosened her tongue and Peeta was such a good listener, she opened up and told him about how she and Gale had started fighting with fists as well as words; and how seeing his parents had made her realise she couldn’t carry on in the relationship. “The problem is we’re stuck in something that was good years ago but if we could be honest with each other, we’d agree it’s long dead. I think we’re fighting in desperation to try to bring some life back between us. But this isn’t the life I want.”

“How would you like your future to be Katniss?” Peeta asked, watching her face steadily, carefully considering her words. She wasn’t used to anyone showing this sort of an interest in what she wanted. She and Gale were assumed to share all the same ideals and goals in life, although she suspected that Gale knew that wasn’t true of them anymore. That was why he avoided talking about anything that really mattered. Katniss wasn’t the same person as she had been at 14 when she first met him, but that wasn’t what Gale wanted to hear.

“You know, I never really thought much about being a parent. But what most upset me when I watched your parents arguing was the thought of how it must have affected their family. I couldn’t stand the thought of doing that to any children I had.” She stopped abruptly realising she had probably just crossed a line. But Peeta didn’t look upset. He was nodding in agreement.

“No,” he said, reaching across to wrap her hand in his warm, slightly roughened palm. He lifted his face to indicate the muffled sound of arguing from above.

“This isn’t the right atmosphere to raise a family. Children shouldn’t have to grow up in a war zone.”

He rubbed his thumb in circles on her palm. “I would love to have children one day, but only if I was sure that I could provide them with a happy home life, somewhere where they could be free to play and explore without fear or criticism.”

Katniss could picture him easily as a father; his broad shoulders were designed for giving piggy-back rides, his large hands were perfect to hold on to, just as she was doing right now. “I think you’d be a wonderful dad, Peeta.”

He blushed and tugged at the neck of his t-shirt. “Is it getting a little warm in here?” 

His modesty made her smile; the alcohol had probably loosened her tongue but she meant it. There was something steady about Peeta that would make a child feel safe and secure.

“Take the compliment Peeta,” she raised her glass to him.

“Well, only if you take one back too,” he lifted his glass in return, “You’re putting your children’s happiness first, even before they’re a twinkle in your eye. I think they’ll be very lucky children who get to have you as their mother.”

Katniss found herself giggling at the ridiculousness of someone offering her such kind words. “How weird has today been? I’ve come from fighting with Gale to discussing parenthood in your kitchen.”

She could feel her heart beat in the skin where their hands touched. She didn’t want to let go. In fact she had the urge to feel more of that contact.

“So what happens now?” Peeta asked.

“I suppose I’ll ask my mother if I can come back home. I don’t know how Prim’s going to feel about sharing her room again.” Katniss tried to be light about it, but a sense of failure accompanied her words.

Peeta squeezed her hand a little tighter, and she felt reassured again that this was the right thing to do.

“I’ll have to go back to collect my things.” The thought of facing Gale again was too much. She swallowed her pride and asked, “Would you come with me for moral support? I don’t want him to persuade me to stay.”

Katniss felt a small pang of guilt for drawing Peeta into her drama, but he didn’t think twice before agreeing to help. “Of course, we can use my truck. I’ve only had a few sips.” A glance at his glass showed her this was true, whereas she had been gulping down the sweet liquid. She felt a little unsteady as she got out of her seat. Peeta showed her to the cloakroom to wash her face and braid her hair, readying herself for battle. She examined the bruise on her cheek and strengthened her resolve as the sound of something hitting a wall and smashing accompanied by Mrs Mellark’s ear splitting screech came down like shelling from above. 

To her relief the house was empty when they arrived back at the home she had shared with Gale for over a year. Living together had been a test they couldn’t pass. Katniss quickly set about packing up her clothes and essential items; a picture of her parents, her archery kit; all things, she realised, that dated back to life ‘Before Gale’. She was in the bedroom when she heard the unmistakeable sound of Gale’s car pulling up outside. She braced herself, and sure enough the slamming of the car door was followed by his voice raised down below. She rushed downstairs to Peeta’s rescue; he didn’t deserve to be involved in this.

“Stop it Gale!” she could hear him accusing Peeta of things he hadn’t done. “No-one has taken me away from you, only you, you have pushed me away from you.”

The bruising on her face, with Peeta as a witness, shocked him into silence. “I’m sorry Catnip,” he came towards her with open arms, but she flinched away, she didn’t want him to touch her. The realisation of what had happened hit her, and it hurt too much. She didn’t want him anymore, she wasn’t ready to forgive, she never was the forgiving sort, Gale of all people should know that.

“We’re no good for each other Gale.”

“But you’re mine,” he pleaded.

She shook her head at that. “I don’t want to be this person who belongs to you any more. Just an afternoon talking to Peeta has made me see I can be something better than that. I think we both can be better apart.”

She had meant her words to be conciliatory but, as though his touch-paper had been lit, Gale sprang across towards Peeta, his fists swinging. Peeta was prepared, dodging the blows and holding Gale’s arms behind him. “I think there’s been enough punches thrown today. I call a ceasefire.”

He held him whilst Katniss threw her ruck sack into the truck and took her seat. “Goodbye Gale,” she managed a small farewell, whilst Peeta released her stunned now ex-boyfriend, and came to join her.

They didn’t speak as they drove away. Katniss felt embarrassed about dragging Peeta into all this. However, when he broke the silence it was just to ask if what she’d told Gale was true, “Did it really help you talking this afternoon?”

Katniss decided to go with her impulse and leaned across to kiss his cheek. Actions were better than words when it came to thankyous, and she definitely owed Peeta for today.

Their lips turned up to give them matching smiles as matching blushes darkened their cheeks. Peeta reached out to take her hand again as he drove her away from Gale, away from destruction to she knew not what exactly, but something told her it would be better.


End file.
